


heaven help the fool who falls in love

by bookishandbossy



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, F/M, Fix-it fic, Fluff, Getting Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-04
Updated: 2017-01-04
Packaged: 2018-09-14 20:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,171
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9202973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookishandbossy/pseuds/bookishandbossy
Summary: Cassian is pale and bandaged and fresh out of the bacta tank.  And when he smiles faintly at her, Jyn realizes with a sudden sharp contraction of her heart that she does care.  Very much.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Lumineers' Ophelia, which also happens to feature on the excellent official Cassian playlist on Spotify aka Cassian Andor Pines for Jyn Erso, the Mixtape.

They live. They are not supposed to. They do anyway.

When Jyn wakes up, she blindly thrusts a hand out and finds nothing. She bolts upright, sheets puddling around her, and scans the room frantically. No Cassian. No sign of him anywhere. Her heart hammers in her chest and the air is too thin to breathe and she—she doesn't want to ask herself why. But she knows that she needs to see him anyway.

“Where is he?” she demands. The healer that's been tending to her just stares blankly at her and puts a hand on her shoulder, probably to guide her back down into the bed. Jyn just shakes her hand off, more roughly than she needs to. “Captain Cassian Andor. Where is he?” she repeats. 

“He's being looked after down the hall. If you just--” The healer doesn't get to finish her sentence. Jyn pushes the sheets to the floor and gets out of bed, ignoring the bruises that throb along her side and the ache that still lingers in her temples. The healer squeaks something after her as she pushes the door open. She doesn't care. The people whose doors she opens looking for him don't seem pleased either. She doesn't care. This probably goes against every infirmary protocol and piece of doctors' advice. She really doesn't care.

Cassian is pale and bandaged and fresh out of the bacta tank. And when he smiles faintly at her, Jyn realizes with a sudden sharp contraction of her heart that she does care. Very much. 

“I heard the noise in the corridor and knew it had to be you,” he says. “Or an invading army.”

“I can be sneaky,” she tells him as she perches on the end of his bed, curling her legs underneath her and reaching up to weave her fingers through his. She has a finger that's been broken and reset badly, he has a palm with burn marks running across it from a blaster that recoiled on him, and their scars slot against each other perfectly. Jyn moves a little closer and squeezes tighter. A bit of warmth spiders out from where their hands are joined and takes up permanent residence in her chest. It's a new feeling, and a little strange, and she thinks that she might like it. “Very sneaky,” she adds smugly. 

“Right,” he murmurs, his eyes already drifting shut. “Are you going to stay?”

“If you'll let me,” she blurts out.

He doesn't say anything in response. Just tugs her up the bed and slings one arm over her as she settles into the curve of him and lets her eyes close. Even before Scarif, before Eadu and Jedha, she was always an uneasy sleeper. When she was at Saw's base, she'd wake up screaming every night until she learned to muffle the sounds of her screams with a pillow and even now her nightmares are silent ones, twisting and turning in her sheets and cold sweat curling down her back. Screams draw attention and attention has never meant anything good. But with Cassian Andor, she shuts her eyes and doesn't worry about what she might see when she opens them. 

When she wakes up, light is streaming in through the windows and Cassian's face is buried against her shoulder. They're wound around each other like vines on the narrow cot and Jyn breathes him in, spice and warmth and smoke, and presses herself against him again.

The healer makes all sorts of indignant noises when she finds them curled up together. Jyn ignores them and refuses to leave until they move her into the room next to Cassian's. She ends up padding into his room most nights anyway, until he starts leaving a side of the bed open for her. People talk, she thinks. Rebellion fighters stop their gossiping to slant glances at her as Cassian leans on her when they walk down the hall and Mon Mothma gives them smug smiles when they choose seats next to each other during strategy sessions. Even some of Cassian's friends, the pilots Shara Bey and Kes Dameron, ask her to come to dinner and then promptly pepper her with questions until Cassian shoots them a dark look and kicks Kes under the table. 

It's only that she can't stop wanting to touch him after that night. She wakes up tangled in his arms and she steals food from his plate at lunch and she leans against his shoulder late at night. And no matter how often she presses herself against his side, she can't help craving more. She's just like a cat, only a step away from deliberately planting herself in his way until he pets her. 

Jyn used to think that she understood want, the surge of heat low in her stomach that would dissipate with the first awkward clash of someone's mouth against hers or the roughness of skin on skin. This is not want. This is sucking in air after all the breath has been drained out of her lungs or the coolness of water after days of thirst. This is something that has dug its way right down to her bones and made a home there. It's his smile and his eyes and his impossible, steadfast hope and the home he carries cupped in his hands and it shows no sign of leaving her. She doesn't want it to. 

The first time they kiss, she isn't expecting it. Everything is quiet and bright in the early hours of the morning and she's awake just watching the light make its way over them. Cassian opens his eyes—once, twice, sleep still seeping out of his face—and looks at her looking at him. His kiss is soft and gentle, his hand cupping her face and her name on his lips as she leans closer and kisses him back. It's a promise of a kiss and she intends to hold him to it. 

“I'm not very good at this,” she breathes. “I'm not even sure where to begin.”

“I'm not sure either,” he admits, one hand twisted in her hair and the other stroking absent-mindedly along her side. “But I have an idea for where we could start.”

“And?”

“And I thought I could kiss you again.” 

She agrees with his idea. Quite enthusiastically. 

 

“What is it?” Jyn demands. Baze and Chirrut have been giving her smug looks ever since they sat down to lunch in the canteen.

“You...” Chirrut pauses and grins evilly at her. “And the captain. The Force tells me things.”

Jyn throws a bread roll at him. 

It misses. (Probably the Force again.)

Cassian slides in to sit next to her, kissing her lightly as he sets down his plate, and Jyn promptly reaches over to steal some of his bread. Cassian just pulls her against his side and she's fairly sure that Baze and Chirrut, along with most of the base, are smirking at them. Clearly there's nothing to do but kiss him again. Thoroughly.


End file.
